


Workout

by baclcop



Category: The LEGO Movie (2014)
Genre: F/F, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3910312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baclcop/pseuds/baclcop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bad Cop tries to squeeze a workout into one of her sparse breaks. Lady Business isn't even going to let her have that much. Or at least, not without antagonizing her every step of the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Workout

There were precisely forty six minutes until she needed to be sat at her desk and finishing the incident report from O-3571’s (or Jim, as Good Cop had affectionately dubbed him) careless misuse of the Picana in yesterday’s interrogation, minus three and a half minutes for a shower, and not to mention the fact that she’d wasted at least two minutes dodging Velma’s questions about the dent in her office wall on the way downstairs. But as she was - that being traversing widely-spread horizontal bars eight feet from the floor - the stress of her job was, for once, the last thing on Bad Cop’s mind.

The ‘gym’ had been constructed back in the days when there had been more than one human employed by Octan, designed to train members of the Super Secret Police for all situations. Master Builders had been known to hide out in the most bizarre of places - from centuries-old tombs in Pharaoh’s quest to shipwrecks in Atlantis - and of course, not forgetting the notorious Forest of Obsolete Products. It had become apparent from the early raids that an incredibly skilled force of elites were needed. And when most of that incredibly skilled force of elites had plummeted into a pit of spears thanks to a rookie mistake whilst staking out a ruined castle in Middle Zealand, it had become apparent that a force of even _more_ incredibly skilled elites was needed. 'Force’ meaning 'anyone who could survive the retraining process’. And thus, the gym had been built into the Office Tower’s basement, implemented as preparation for that process, and was responsible for the firing and/or lifelong injuries of the majority of the remaining squad. The rest had been finished off by the retraining process. Except for Bad Cop, naturally. The results had swiftly lead Lady Business to the conclusion that androids were both more efficient and less messy to clean up after (in terms of both legalities and viscera) but being as she had been the only member of the SSP to survive retraining, had kept Bad Cop on as Chief - and the rest was history. But Bad Cop still liked to make the trip down to the basement on the rare occasions that she had the time and felt she was getting a little rusty.

A light gust from an axe rushing past the cop’s ear ruffled the rogue strands of hair that had escaped the tight bun binding the rest in place, and Bad Cop idly mused that she hadn’t felt this calm in about a month.

“Bad Cop!”

Until that. The sound of her boss’ voice sent panic shooting through her like an electric current, and she only narrowly avoided losing an arm as the shock made her very nearly swing into the path of an axe.

“Thought I might find you down here,” Business chuckled, glancing over the equipment fondly as if it were her favourite childhood playing spot. “Seems like only yesterday we were having all those training days, huh, pal? But it’s nearly been ten years! Jeez… still, I’m not gonna forget that one guy who broke both his legs AND his spine in a hurry - that was a  _riot_ , am I right?”

“Something you… need, ma'am?” Bad Cop asked through clenched teeth, trying to remain formal as an uncomfortable ache crept across her knuckles and her shoulders began to tremble slightly. It was awkward, just dangling there as the most powerful woman in the world addressed her - but she couldn’t very well drop to the floor, so it was all she could do to be grateful that she’d at least had the sense to chalk her hands before she’d started.

“Hm? Oh no no, nothing like that - I just got bored of all that  _work_ , y'know? And the bots were driving me nuts, so I figured why not pop down to check on my favourite officer?” There was a little too much pep in Business’ voice, and her smile was simpering - positively dripping with honey. It set Bad Cop on edge. Made her palms sweat. Which, considering her current predicament, was really not a good thing.

“You just keep doing what you’re doing!” Business sang, giving a dismissive wave of her hand and turning away in search of a seat.

Realization hit Bad Cop as suddenly as a lightning strike - and about as unpleasantly as one too. Business was  _bored_. And when she was bored, she liked to play with people. Which Bad Cop could mostly handle with two feet on the ground. But on an assault course designed with the potential to be lethal? Kind of a different kettle of fish. Still, there wasn’t _that_ much Business could do from down there, right? Considering that her boss’ favourite brand of harassment tended to be the invasion of her personal bubble, Bad Cop felt that, for once, the odds might be in her favour. She hazarded a glance down to see that the president had found herself a bench to lounge on and was looking up with a smug expectancy. Harmless enough… and keeping her waiting could only serve to make the situation worse, so Bad Cop gritted her teeth and warily advanced across the bars, noting the sheen of sweat across her palms with vague apprehension. She could hear her boss humming to herself over the whir of the axes - some irritating little tune that was already grating against her nerves like nobody’s business. The sooner she got down the better. She just had to take it one step at a time. Right arm. Left arm. Wait for axe. Right arm. Surprise axe. Left arm. Right arm.

“WHOA!”

A surge of panic shot through Bad Cop at the sound, and she lurched forward as she lost her grip, awkwardly jarring her left shoulder with a pained grunt where she’d been in the process of reaching for the next bar.

“Ma'am!?” she spluttered, trying to keep the fury from her tone - if it had been one of the bots who’d caused that little  _mishap_ , he’d have probably been scrap metal by now.

“Oh, nothing. Just wanted to make sure that axe didn’t kill you. You were pretty close to it for a minute there.”

Bad Cop sunk her teeth into her lip to stop herself pointing out that it was entirely  _her_ fault that it nearly had, but from the snide undertone to Business’ voice, the cop was fairly sure she was fully aware of that fact. She exhaled slowly and forced her temper into submission to grab hold of the rails once more and power through the remaining axes, more eager than ever to be on solid ground.

She all but slid down the ladder adjoined to the last bar, and as she hit the ground with a soft  _thunk_ , Business began to slowly applaud.

“Well, not as good as the first time you did it, but you made it through, I guess. Looking kinda sweaty, though. You should probably cool down there, huh?”

It was the kind of suggestion that would usually translate to 'get some water’ or 'take a break’. But Bad Cop knew what cue that was in Business’ books. With a quiet, affirmative grunt, she begrudgingly pulled her t-shirt up and over her shoulders to leave herself in just her sports bra and sweatpants, face slightly flushed as she did her best to avoid Business’ already roving eyes which, unfortunately, had a way of demanding contact.

“There now, isn’t that better?” Business sniggered, with a grin like a shark as her gaze darted from Bad Cop’s breasts to her abs to her face, then straight back to her breasts.

“Yes ma'am.”

Business snapped her fingers,

“Alright already! So don’t just stand there, c'mon. Do something cool before I fall asleep. And don’t just climb stuff. Hell, use that thing or something, I don’t care,” she shrugged, waving a hand in the vague direction of the gymnastics high bar on the other side of the room.

Bad Cop felt a vague irritation grip her chest - she’d come down here to brush up, not to put on a show for Business like she was a bloody circus act. But since that was what Business seemed to have her heart set on, she figured she may as well put some wellie into it. And at least the death risk was pretty significantly reduced from the axes.

She scooped out a handful of chalk from her pot, patting her hands together as she walked towards the only slightly formidable looking set of bars. With a sigh, she kicked off her boots, ignoring the tut from Business - you were allowed to when it was just a tut - and grabbed hold of a chair to jump from in order to give herself the height she needed to reach the bar. She booted it out of her way once she had a decent grip, wincing at the screech it made against the floorboards, but what else was she meant to have done? Asked Business to lift her up? Not bloody likely.

“Well?”

Bad Cop steeled herself as she hauled her weight upwards, bringing her hips level with the bar before kicking her legs back and beginning to swing with the pole as her axis. Christ. Was it meant to make you feel this  _seasick_? She’d done a little gym as a kid, but this just made her want to hurl. How the hell the professionals did it was beyond her. Her stomach dropped every time her weight swung under the bar, and she was fairly sure she must have turned at least slightly green by now.

“C'mon! Don’t just keep whirling, do some awesome tricks or something!”

“I’m not an  _acrobat_ , ma'am,” Bad Cop managed in between swings, and Lady Business’ head snapped forward like a hawk.

“I’m sorry, was that attitude, Bad Cop?”

“No, Lady Business,” she quickly rectified, trying not to let her sudden dread slow her momentum.

“Didn’t think so. I hope you’re not trying to disappoint me here. Because I’m  _not_ gonna be happy if you disappoint me.”

Well, that was a death sentence if Bad Cop ever saw one. Grunting with the exertion, she brought herself into a handstand, entire body pencil-straight as she held it there for a moment, before plunging down again. She reached the same straight position once more, but this time moved her left hand around her right and twisted suddenly to face the opposite direction, the tension in her core barely wavering at all. When all it garnered from Business, however, was a loud yawn, the cop swung herself down harshly, backwards this time, using the new momentum and fresh determination to release the bar as she surged back and somersaulted so she was facing forward once more, though her left hand found purchase seconds after her right.

“Tch. It’s  _messy_ , Bad Cop! Messy! C'mon, tighten it up a little, will you? Or am I going to have to remind you how much I value perfection?”

Bad Cop wasn’t sure what that meant, but not finding out was motivation enough for her. Adrenalin coursed through her like molten fire through her veins as she lifted herself again, pulling herself in to roll backwards around the bar on her hips, then twisting and throwing her legs apart as she sailed over the top of the bar before rising to the top of the bar again and spreading her legs into the splits. Well. Good to know she could still do that.

Business found it fairly lucky that Bad Cop couldn’t see her grin, which was all but feral at the sight, as she made a mental note to _never_ forget that Bad Cop could part her legs that wide and leaned back in her seat, laying her arms across the backrest.

“There we go,  _finally_! We’re getting somewhere! Now finish it off - and make it impressive!”

Alright. If Business wanted a show, then a show she would get. After all, what did Bad Cop live for if not to please her? And every word from her boss’ mouth was sending fresh waves of stamina through her. She was moving faster now, and with far more power, weaving twists and flips into her swings wherever she could, a slight sheen of sweat casting a veneer over the powerful muscles of her shoulders and stomach as she worked. Her eyes fixed on the training dummies by the bar like those of an eagle spotting a vole, and as she swung down with all the strength she could muster, Bad Cop released the pole and, picking her target, pelted down towards the mannequin and swung her leg round, kicking its head clean off before hitting the ground in a neat crouch.

Her eyes were fixed to the floor as she panted, her skin crawling like her veins were live wires, before she suddenly felt fingertips against her chin. Business tilted her face upward and Bad Cop’s eyes met her boss’, which were all but unreadable as they gripped Bad Cop with might akin to the maw of a beast. Seconds passed, the pair of them utterly still, save for Bad Cop’s heaving shoulders, until Business simply gave a quiet hum and raised her eyebrows as she released Bad Cop’s jaw and strutted towards the door.

“Think I might get you a pole installed upstairs.”

Bad Cop frowned, but she didn’t have time to ponder it before Business glanced over her shoulder and shot her a wink.

“A vertical one.”

_Oh_.


End file.
